Cethe (31 page)

apologize for the long delay in this hearing. I’ve been out of town on other business for some time. Now, which one of you is Master

Potts?”

Alas, there was only so long Severyn could put off the Celestials’ delegation. The morning came when Nedby brought the list

of the day’s Petitions and Captain Remy’s name stared up at him, promising trouble.

“Send them in,” he instructed Nedby, steeling himself for the coming interview. The hal master bowed and hurried from the

audience chamber.

Severyn scowled at the Petition. He’d read it over several times, stil amazed at their audacity. The Celestial Council requested

the king’s permission to move an undisclosed number of troops west for protection of Church property. Severyn had spent several

late nights, forming a response that would not, Loth wil ing, send them into apoplexy. He doubted he’d succeed.

Nedby was taking his time. Severyn looked down the length of the chamber to the doors. Where was the old man? Glancing

over at the table where his clerks sat, he said, “Go find out what’s taking them so long.”

One of the young men jumped up and ran out. He returned a short time later, the hal master in tow.

“Where’s the Council’s delegation?”

“They’re not here yet, Highness,” Nedby replied, apprehensive.

“Cal the next Petitioner, then.”

“I’m sure they’re on their way, Your Highness! It’s some distance to the abbey and this time of day the streets are crowded.”

“I have no time to waste,” replied Severyn. “By tomorrow, I plan to be on my way back to Shia. I’ve no intention of putting the

trip off another day.”

“But Your Highness! They are representatives of the Celestial Council!”

“The Councilors are men like any other,” retorted the prince. “Bring in the next Petitioner!”

Nedby retreated again, bowing, leaving Severyn to stare at the doors and wish al the Celestials to perdition.

The hal master returned within a few minutes, accompanying a knight Petitioning for a change in his herald. It was a minor

matter, and one easily approved after a quick check of the Highblood Register showed no duplication of another’s device. The

knight took himself off, satisfied. No sooner had he passed out of the chamber then the doors flew open again and Captain Remy,

accompanied by his companions, strode in.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Remy, coming straight up to Severyn’s table. His bow was scarcely more than a bob

of his head. “We were first on the schedule, were we not?”

“You’re late,” Severyn said. “My time is valuable and this is not Zelenov!”

Remy looked as if he’d eaten something unpleasant — most likely the retort he was wise enough to stifle. Stiffly, he said, “And

have you had a chance to consider our Petition, Your Highness?”

“I have.”

Remy and the others waited.

“I find it curiously incomplete. There is no specification of troop numbers,” said Severyn, flapping the document at them, “nor

mention of how these additional troops wil be paid for.”

There was a moment’s silence, then Remy replied in a tense voice, “I was under the impression that His Majesty did not have

similar concerns.”

“Yet the king sent this Petition to me for handling and I find both those matters most concerning. Our people are already

struggling under the burden of both taxes and tithes. Frankly, captain, I would not be at al surprised were the Advisori to raise al hel

over it. At the very least, they should be consulted.”

“The Church has a right to see to the protection of its property!”

Severyn leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled before him. “I was unaware of any assaults on Church lands or

buildings. Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Remy, seeing his chance, pounced. “I’m surprised you could ask such a thing, Your Highness, when you yourself witnessed

the assault on Shia!”

“The assault was on Castle Shia,” replied Severyn calmly, “and not on the abbey. Even if it were, however, that’s one incident.

The Church has vast holdings across the West. One attack by a gang of bandits on Tanyrin’s frontier hardly constitutes a crisis.”

“Is that your decision, Your Highness?” Remy asked coldly. “Am I to return to Zelenov with the word that our Petition has been

denied?”

“Provisional y denied,” replied Severyn. “I would see more detail of this plan. I want troop numbers, the names of the parishes

affected and, of course, plans for financing.”

“His Eminence may simply decide to appeal your decision to the king!”

“That is his right.” Severyn shrugged. “Is there anything else, gentlemen?”

“No,” grated Remy.

“Then I wish you a safe journey east,” said the prince.

Severyn got an early start the next morning. Erich Dore accompanied him, the two of them sharing a roomy, wel -sprung

coach. Forry and Jeremy planned to join them at Shia, bringing with them the first of the troops planned for the castle’s and

ultimately, Arami’s, defense.

“Maybe you should persuade your brother to abdicate before next spring,” Erich suggested after hearing Severyn’s account of

the Petition hearing. “I can’t see Arami withstanding pressure from the Council indefinitely.”

“It makes no sense for him to go to Shia before the wedding,” replied Severyn.

“You’re assuming he’l consent to go at al .”

Severyn smiled wryly. “I’l lure him there with promises of money. My dear brother is al too predictable. Once shut up in that

damned pile and surrounded by my men, he’l have little choice but to give up the throne. If we make his surroundings luxurious

enough, he may not even care.”

And those who might wish to contest Severyn’s claim would find it difficult to reach Arami in his remote and wel -guarded exile.

Increasingly, it appeared the only ones to object would be the Celestials. He had to make certain they kept their troops on the other

side of the Midders until the deed was done or the bloodbath they hoped to avoid risked becoming inevitable.

Such grim thoughts could not hold Severyn for long, however. As each mile passed under their wheels, the weight of his

responsibilities grew lighter. Soon he would be surrounded by his dearest friends and, for a time, free to enjoy himself. It would be

good to see Michael again.

They ran into bad weather as they neared the Shian border, icy rain dogging them from Fornsby, up the low hil s and into the

highlands. It was stil fal ing as their coach rol ed through Shia’s newly reinforced gate to the main house.

Inside, Timkins cousin, Jarred Hansen, met them with a flock of maids. Their wet things were promptly carried away.

“It’s good to see you, Your Highness, Lord Dore,” the young butler said. “Wil Tim be fol owing?”

“Not this time, Hanson. I’ve left him in Tantagrel to see to things. How do things go here?”

“As wel as can be expected, sir. I believe Lord Chal ory is in the games room.”

“Where’s Lord Arranz?”

“The library, I believe.”

Erich was looking around with approval as Hanson finished his report. “It looks like most of the construction is complete,” he

said. “What a difference! Shal we go see Auron?”

“You go ahead,” replied Severyn. “I’l join you in a bit.”

The house might have been a different place. Severyn noted the improvements with satisfaction as he hurried to the north

wing. He was taken aback at the sight of the moonstone wal s. Auron had mentioned their discovery in one of his letters, but

Severyn hadn’t given it much thought at the time. He shook his head, running a hand along the stone’s smooth surface. What an

improvement from the grim, musty surroundings he’d left al those weeks ago!

The stairs were carpeted now, cushioning his feet as he climbed them. More carpet lay along the corridors. Everything

seemed brightly lit, yet there were only a few lamps burning, their light caught and magnified by the moonstone.

As he approached the library, he heard voices. Slowing, he peered around the half open door. This room had been

extensively refitted. He glimpsed the magnificent stained-glass windows and rows of bookshelves, most of them stil empty. Boxes of

various sizes were scattered around the polished wood floor and, before one of the shelves, Michael was busy replacing books

while Stefn Eldering pul ed them, one after another, from the boxes.

Something about the tableau froze Severyn in place. Michael was laughing as he took the books from Eldering. He said

something Severyn couldn’t hear, then took a mock swipe at the dark-haired youth with the book he held. Eldering laughed, flinging

his hands in front of his head in pretend alarm. It was a charming scene and Severyn felt a sharp, unpleasant pang.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door completely open and came in. Eldering’s smile vanished, but Michael’s expression

lit up like the sun.

“Sev!” he cried, jumping up, stepping over the boxes and piles of books to greet the prince. His arms came around Severyn in

a tight embrace and Severyn’s inexplicable pang evaporated. “It’s wonderful to see you! Did you just get in? Who’s with you?”

“It’s good to see you, too!” Severyn returned the hug fiercely. “Damn, but I’ve missed you! Erich is with me. The others wil be

here in the next week or two.”

“We were starting to think you weren’t coming! What kept you?”

“Business,” replied Severyn, rol ing his eyes. “Arami is no longer hearing Petitions, or so it seems. I’m here now, though, and

I’m looking forward to hearing about everything. How’s Chris and Annie? And Uncle Damon? Terrifying as always?”

Michael laughed, eyes dancing. “I have a lot to tel you. Some you’l be glad to hear. Some…” he shrugged and an uneasy

look darkened his eyes. “Not so much.”

Involuntarily, Severyn’s gaze went to the earl, who was quietly putting books onto the shelves by himself, his back turned to

them.

“Wel , then, come on downstairs!” ordered Severyn. “Let’s find Erich and Auron, have a stiff drink. How did you find Bishop

Storm?”

The two young men left the library. Just outside it, Michael stopped. “I need to talk to you first, Sev. Alone.”

Again, there was that strange, uneasy feeling in the pit of Severyn’s stomach. He kept his smile, however. “Of course. I need

to freshen up a bit. Come with me to my room. We can be private there.”

The prince’s suite would someday be Arami’s, three spacious rooms that had original y been six cramped ones. Severyn shed

his damp jacket, tossing it carelessly on the big bed. Michael went to the fireplace and leaned against the mantel.

“The moonstone is a surprise,” said Severyn.

Michael started. “Oh. Yes.” He smiled crookedly. “At least Stefn has stopped claiming this place is his ancestral home.”

Stefn, was it?

“You and he seem very friendly,” Severyn said. He went to the wardrobe, opening it before realizing his baggage had not

made it upstairs yet.

“He’s not a bad sort,” Michael replied. “To be honest, I wonder sometimes if the old Earl was a cuckold, Stefn is so different.”

“I suppose it’s helpful having a cordial relationship with your cethe.”

“What? Oh, yes. I suppose so.” Michael pushed away from the fireplace.

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Michael directed a startled look at the prince, hearing the edge in his voice. “No,” he said. “Of course not.” He made a smal ,

helpless movement with his hands. “Grandfather gave me some naragi high spel s.”

Severyn’s jaw sagged. Michael ran a distracted hand through his hair. It was loose on his shoulders tonight and, even through

his shock at Michael’s confession, Severyn was reminded how beautiful it was.

“I thought those spel s had vanished with the naragi.”

“Apparently not.”

“You’re sure?”

Michael’s jaw tightened. “Oh, yes,” he said softly.

The two old friends stared at each other.

“Damnation,” said Severyn final y. “Witchery is one thing, but high k’na?”

“Just because I have them doesn’t mean I’l use them, of course.”

Severyn sat down on the edge of his bed, shaking his head. “Don’t be so hasty,” he said final y. “Locke’s ambitions exceed

what even I suspected. Disturbing rumors having been coming out of the east. We may yet face the Council in battle and if that

happens, there’s no reason to doubt the High Orders wil hold back against us. Before this is al over, my friend, much as I may hope

otherwise, I may yet have need of a naragi’s ful power.”

His Grace, Derek Arranz, was the youngest son of a powerful naran duke, Alastair Arranz, at the time war broke out

between men and the nara. Derek was summoned home to the Arranz estate. His father died shortly thereafter and his elder

brother, Carrington, ascended to the title.

Carrington, unlike his father, was sympathetic to the naran cause and embarked upon a murderous campaign to rid his

parish and the surrounding parishes of their humans. Derek, however, refused to go along with his brother’s violent rule.

Imprisoned by Carrington for three years, he finally escaped, traveling to Lothmont under direst threat of death, to join Aramis in

defense of humanity.

from:
The Chronicles of Tanyrin: Volume I
,

Year of Loth’s Dominion 1347

Stefn saw little of Michael over the next two weeks. An apologetic Marin informed him that the prince wanted him confined to